


In the Backseat of a Getaway Car

by SapphoAcolyte



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Mob, Gen, M/M, and then yuuri just....accidentally fell in love with the prince of the mob, he and victor met because yuuri lowkey saved makkachins life, help him, i dont know what this is, russian mob au, the russian skating team is all a part of the mob, whoops, yuuri is so lost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoAcolyte/pseuds/SapphoAcolyte
Summary: Yuuri was ready for a nice night out with his boyfriend, but Victor and his....friends...have a quick errand to run.





	In the Backseat of a Getaway Car

Yuuri’s phone buzzed. He wrung his hands, nervous, fretting over whether to answer. The buzzing continued. 

Mila, not taking her hands off the wheel, glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Myshka,” she warned, not unkindly. “You oughta answer that now. You won’t have time later” Her attention moved somewhere else for a moment. “And keep it short”

He nodded, throat dry. He answered with a hoarse, “Mom?”

His clipped Japanese left Mila disappointed; she loved to eavesdrop. She only knew the roughest phrases, the Yakuza was usually Viktor’s area of expertise. Which, she grinned to herself, turned out to be fortunate for him. 

A hundred meters away, a flashlight sputtered to light. 

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered, turning the car on and throwing it into gear, unlocking the doors. “Myshka, wrap it up!”

The flustered student stammered something that was either a goodbye or an apology. 

“So, what’d you tell her?” Mila asked conversationally, flooring the gas, bracing herself for the kickback. 

Yuuri, taken aback, flew back in his seat, back hitting the posh leather hard. “Ah,” he gasped. “I told her I was out with friends,”

Mila smirked, turning a hard left that made the car nearly tip. “How sweet! We’re friends now. And what did you say we were doing?”

He swallowed hard, embarrassed as ever. “Getting froyo,” he muttered. 

Mila, usually the professional, couldn’t fight back a bark at that. The idea distracted her so much she almost ran over her comrades. 

“Josef, Mary, and Jesus,” she sighed, as the two men threw open the doors and launched in. “Katsuki, you sure are something.”

Mila’s ribbing didn’t matter to Yuuri anymore, as he was preoccupied with an enormous pile of fluff.

“Makkachin!” he cried as the dog in question tried to flatten the small Japanese man. The force of the poodle was increased by Mila’s sudden acceleration away as soon as the men had closed the doors. She really was one hell of a getaway driver. 

From the other side of the dog a deep voice chuckled. “Good to know where your priorities are, kotyonok.”

“Viktor! Did it go well?” Yuuri asked absently. Yurio, situated in the passenger seat, chuckled darkly, muttering something in Russian. 

Viktor cleared his throat, obviously ignoring the angry teen. “Well, there’s no bullets in either of us and the mayor is alive, so it wasn’t a failure.”

Yuuri shoved down his initial reaction of “Wait, why wouldn’t the mayor be alive?” and “Why am I letting you go places when you might come home filled with lead?” and “Mila, I think that last bump was a cat?”. “Well, that sounds pretty good.” he said evenly. Nice, Katsuki.

Already desperate to change the subject, he grabbed Makkachin by the ears, holding her close, his voice pitching high. “And I bet you did great, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” He rubbed her fur enthusiastically. “Good girl, good-” his voice dropped two octaves.

“Viktor, is this blood?”

Yurio chuckled. 

Viktor looked out the window. “Isn’t the moon beautiful tonight?”

“Viktor!”

“It’s not dog blood?” Viktor offered.

“Is that supposed to make it better?” Yuuri cried, his voice rising again.

“Does...it not?” Viktor asked, apparently genuinely confused. 

Mila, narrowly avoiding crashing into an old man, cackled. “Froyo. He told her froyo.”


End file.
